


We Are Grounders

by blarkeontheark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, CAN'T HAVE A KABBY FIC WITHOUT ANGST, Fluff, Kidnapping, LET'S FIND OUT, Multi, SO, What else is new, a lot of fluff, a lot of it, abby and kane are parents, abby's having nightmares, actually that's not true i'm working on a book club au, but still pretty fluffy, but with no radiation threat, how badly can i fuck this up?, mackson - Freeform, pre-season 4, sangedakru, shit happens, they're just kinda chill, this might be the fluffiest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-03 00:06:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarkeontheark/pseuds/blarkeontheark
Summary: Abby's nightmares prove to be true when she is kidnapped by Santiago, Eadric and Castela kom Sangedakru. It's up to Marcus, Clarke and Jackson to get her back—although she might not be quite the same as she was before she left.





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> i have a tendency to start fics and not finish them, and especially with a hiatus staring us in the face, we'll see how this goes. i promise i've already written more than what i'm posting now but yeah i'll do my best to actually finish this.

"Abby."

Abby glanced up with a slight smile as Kane ambled through the door to the mess hall. 

"You're up early," she said. 

"You're one to talk." He took a seat across from her, setting two cups of coffee on the table and pushing one towards her. 

"Thank you." She took a long sip, giving the caffeine time to run through her blood, waking her up slightly. Her eyes refocused and she put a hand to her hair self-consciously, aware that she hadn't taken the time to brush it yet. 

"How did you sleep?" 

"The same as usual." 

He looked worried. "Have you talked to Jackson? Is there something you could take?"

"It's not that I'm not sleeping, Marcus." She left unsaid what they both knew—the nightmares still haunted her. 

"The same thing?"

"They get closer every night." Abby shuddered. "Is it wrong? To have nightmares about Grounders?"

Kane looked thoughtful. "I know it's not a prejudice. You can't control your dreams. And yet...can you tell which clan they're from?"

Abby shook her head. "I have a vague idea of what their brand looks like. I could ask Clarke..."

"Clarke will want to know what it's about." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think it's a bad idea to tell her. I'm just asking you if you're ready."

"I don't need to worry Clarke. She's got enough on her hands." Abby moved to stand up, but Kane grabbed her wrist. 

"Stay. We never get a chance to talk."

She slid her chair back in. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything." He shrugged, but didn't slide his hand out of hers. "How's medical?"

"Is this a report or a conversation, Chancellor?"

Kane looked resigned. "Fine. Be that way. I'll head to medical; go chat up Jackson. He's probably more entertaining to talk to."

Abby laughed, some of her exhaustion fading. "Bellamy was there yesterday. Scraped up from tripping over a tree root. I asked what he was doing in the woods, but he wouldn't give me a straight answer."

Kane tried to suppress a smirk. "That's interesting."

"I wouldn't strike Bellamy as the type to trip over a tree root—" Abby caught sight of Kane and stopped short. "What? You know what he was up to!"

"I have it on empirical authority that he was on a walk in the woods yesterday with...Clarke." Kane grinned. "His idea of a date, I'd bet. I'm not surprised that he tripped. Clarke probably got a good laugh out of that one."

"With Clarke?" Abby sat up straight. "Are you sure?"

Kane sighed. "It's Bellamy, Abby. You didn't do this with Finn, or Lexa, or Niylah. Don't—"

“First of all, I didn’t know about Finn. She kept that one quiet. Lexa was the Commander, so I couldn’t exactly—wait, what? Clarke and Niylah?"

Kane raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Abby."

She leaned back in her chair, sighing. "Right. She's not a child anymore."

"Bellamy's a good kid," Kane said. "He and Clarke have been in this together since the beginning."

Abby stood up. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Leaving already?" He looked slightly disappointed. 

"I've got to get to medical. I'll see you later." She squeezed his shoulder as she walked past. 

"Abby?"

She glanced back. "Hmm?"

"Talk to Jackson, will you?"

She quirked a smile. "I'll see you later, Marcus."

…

She didn’t talk to Jackson about the nightmares.

She didn’t do anything, really, except proceed through her day as if she had a perfectly normal night’s sleep. She caught Jackson flashing her a few strange looks throughout the day, but chose to ignore them.

And they were back in her dreams, the Grounders. They all bore the symbol of a sun with an array of lines in the middle, a brand on their faces.

And somewhere, in the depths of her mind, Abby could hear a familiar voice, echoing as a memory in her mind..

“Wait. Baylis was Sangedakru.”

And another.

“He was also a thief. He probably stole these stones.”

“A thief who didn’t bear the mark of Sangedakru,” a third voice drawled.

Sangedakru. 

Abby tried to back away, but they came closer.

And closer.

They were closer tonight than last night, she thought.

Very close.

Too close.

If they didn’t get her tonight, they would tomorrow.

Just as one reached out to grab her, she awoke, shaking and sweating. She sat up, trying to catch her breath, as there was a knocking at the door. 

“Come in,” she whispered.

It was Kane, as she expected. “Abby? I heard a yell…”

She couldn’t pretend to be okay, couldn’t even try. She buried her face in his shoulder as he sat down next to her, gripping her hand.

“Are they this bad every night?” he asked, shocked.

“They were so close,” she breathed. 

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, gently detaching her from his shoulder and stroking her face lightly. “Usually you are not afraid of much.”

She took a deep breath, pulling herself together. “I’m okay,” she said quietly. “I’m fine.”

He seemed to sense that she wanted to move on. “Let’s get some breakfast,” he suggested. “And then we’re going to talk about what to do about this.”

“What could we possibly do?”

“There has to be something we can do. Anything.” He stood up and helped her stand, smoothing down a few flyaway patches of hair. “Let’s get you some food. And then you are not rushing off to medical, because you are taking the day off.”

“Jackson—“

“—already knows, and Clarke has agreed to help out for the day.” At her surprised look, he smiled. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed. People are worried about you, Abby. And so am I.”

She carefully leaned her forehead against his. “I’m okay,” she repeated.

He pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment. “I know you don’t ask for help, but this time you don’t have a choice, because I know you need it.”

“I—“ Abby’s natural instinct was to fight back, but then she looked up at his face, open with concern. 

This was Marcus Kane, for God’s sake. If she couldn’t trust him to help her, she couldn’t trust anyone.

“That makes my job a lot easier.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You need food. Come on.”

Quickly tying her hair back into a ponytail, brushing her teeth and throwing on jeans and a button-down shirt over her thin camisole, she joined him in the hallway, twining her hand in his. It was no secret that they were…whatever they were. Abby had heard the “mom and dad” quips, and Raven had even whispered that the kids had taken bets on when they’d eventually get together since they landed. Apparently, Monty had won.

It had been so long since she let herself rely on anyone. But Kane had a tendency to make people feel safe. Ironic, considering he had usually been in charge of arrest warrants on the Ark—and the subsequent executions. On the ground, he was a different person. Even before they'd taken off, she'd started to realize that he had changed. 

And despite their hostile past, she'd somehow fallen in love with him. Amazing. 

"Earth to Abby."

She blinked. Kane was holding a smooth, round object in front of her. 

"Indra dropped a few of them off, figuring we'd never had them. They're eggs."

"Chicken eggs?" Abby took one, inspecting them. “I’ve read about them, obviously. They’re light. I didn’t expect them to be so light.”

"We had them in Mt Weather," Monty piped up as he passed, carefully taking the egg from Kane. "Raven's cooking up a few as we speak."

As it turned out, the eggs were delicious. They were met with a round of applause, and just enough for everyone up early enough to have another small helping. 

"I'll have to see if we can negotiate some trade with Indra for more of these," Kane mused. "I doubt they'll be willing to give up any chickens, but—"

"We do not need chickens," Abby agreed. “We have enough to deal with.”

The room had almost cleared out by that point; only Raven and Clarke were still talking quietly in the corner. When Clarke caught sight of them, she stood up quickly, and Raven stiffly followed her out of the room. 

"Your daughter is remarkably perceptive," Kane commented. 

Abby leaned back in her chair. "Why can't I go to medical again?"

"You need a break. A day off." Kane stood up. "Come for a walk with me."

"Where?"

"Does it matter?"

A grin quirked his face as she stood up, taking his hand. "Fine."

"Good."


	2. Hosh Daun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)))))))))))

The sun lit the trees as she clambered over a log, swatting away Kane's offered hand. 

"I can climb a log myself, thanks," she said, a little crabbily. 

"You're small. I'm tall."

"Marcus."

"You can't even threaten me physical violence." The atmosphere between them was easy, joking, companionable. "What are you going to do, punch me in the elbow?"

"I could gouge out your eyes if I jumped. Give me a stepladder, maybe."

He laughed. "If your purpose was to reach my face, I could think of a far easier way to do so."

"Wait." Abby hopped back on top of the log, windmilling her arms for balance. "I get to be taller than you for once. I get to win."

Even with the log, the combined height of her and the platform only elevated her to slightly taller than Kane. They stood nose-to-nose, her balancing with her hand on his shoulder. 

She tilted his face upwards slightly and kissed him, reveling in the childish joy of being slightly taller than him. “I win.”

"You win," he mumbled. 

She laughed and stepped down from the log. Kane was right—she'd needed this day, needed this break. Maybe tonight, Sangedakru wouldn't return to her dreams. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asked as they continued down the path. 

"The nightmares," she answered honestly. "I'm wondering if they'll stop."

His eyes darkened. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

She raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, come on,” he said. "I'm serious, Abby. If you think you'll sleep better when you're not alone, I'm here."

"And somehow, I don't think it's quite a sacrifice for you." Abby shifted. "We could move in together," she suggested hesitantly. "For real. Clear some space. We're low on room, anyway."

"Really?" he asked. "You're serious about this?"

"If you're asking if I'm serious about you, the answer is yes," she said. "It's been yes for a long time."

He looked thoughtful. "When did you first know?"

"Mount Weather," she answered immediately. "When you tried to stop them from taking my bone marrow. And when you immediately shoved past everyone else to get to me."

He hummed thoughtfully. 

"You didn't answer my question," she said. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

"I think Monty and Harper might also be sharing a room soon, which leaves—"

“Forget the logistics. I’m asking you what you want.”

"Of course,” he said immediately. “Abby, I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up. I didn’t want to push you.” 

She grinned. “Since I’ve still got the official Chancellor’s quarters, this is a good decision anyway.”

Kane wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “No more nightmares,” he promised her. “We’re going to get rid of them, once and for all.”

They hiked on in silence, enjoying the sunlight, enjoying each other’s company, enjoying the peace that hung in the air between them.

…

“Draw four!” Raven slammed the card onto the table with such force it rattled Monty’s glass. “Take that, motherfuckers!”

“I’m currently the only motherfucker you’re playing,” Monty pointed out. “And the only real motherfucker in the vicinity is currently over there with the mother in question.”

Raven choked on her drink. “Thanks for that visual. Some things, I just didn’t need to think about.” She tapped her fingers against the table, glancing over at Kane and Abby as Monty grudgingly took four more cards. “Do you think they’ll ever get married?”

Monty almost sprayed his drink all over the table. “What? Raven, how is this any of our business?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered.” Raven’s eyes glittered. “What are they waiting for, anyway? They’re practically married already. Abby’s got a grown kid already, and Kane might as well have adopted the Blakes. Hell, he even treats Clarke like his own daughter.”

“And?”

“They’re so in love it’s kind of disgusting.” Raven rolled her eyes as Monty wiggled a DRAW TWO card at her.

“What’s the point of getting married at all, anyway?” 

A few more rounds passed in silence before Raven spoke again.

“It’s symbolic,” she said. “I would, if I were in love.” She held up her last card. “Uno.”

“Are you thinking about Finn?” Monty asked absently. Truthfully, he couldn’t care less that Raven was kicking his ass for the seventh time in a row. It was just nice to sit back with a drink and not worry about imminent death for once. He doubted Clarke or Bellamy knew what to do with themselves without guns in their hands and bodies at their feet.

“Finn.” Raven turned the name over in her mouth, pondering it. “No, I wasn’t thinking about Finn.” She shoved her card at him. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone, really.”

Monty pushed his chair back, shuffling the cards and setting them down next to her. “I’m done being your Uno punching bag,” he announced. “Someone else can take over.”

“Boo,” Raven complained. “I was having fun.”

“Boo yourself.” He stood up. “I’m going to sleep. It’s almost midnight.” He drained the rest of his glass. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.” He watched as Raven’s gaze shifted across the room and hardened into a smirk. “Still think they shouldn’t get married?”

Monty glanced over. Abby and Kane were leaning across one of the small tables towards each other, completely in their own world. Their hands were linked, their drinks forgotten as they talked, eyes never leaving the other’s face.

“They’ve been like that for hours,” Raven commented. 

“I’ve never seen them…let down their guard like that.”

“Well, we’re not under threat of immediate death for once.” Raven grasped the edge of the table and lurched unsteadily to her feet. “Okay. I’m turning in for the night.” She caught Bellamy’s gaze and winked, striding out of the room as easily as a girl in a brace could. 

Raven, of course, made it look effortless.

…

She hoped, as she kissed him goodnight, that it would be the end of the nightmares. She hoped, as he slapped off the lights and slid in next to her, that it would be a peaceful night. 

He was asleep almost instantly. She could hear the slow rhythm of his breathing as she tucked her head into his shoulder and curled the blanket around them. 

And yet. 

There she was, again. In the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by Grounders. 

They were so close. 

It felt so real. 

He reached out to grab her. She closed her eyes.

She was seized from behind, a hand clapped around her mouth. It took a moment to fight past the thick veil of sleep, but when the cold air hit her skin, her eyes snapped open. 

She wasn't in the middle of nowhere. She was being shoved through a hole in the fence of Arkadia by a Grounder. A Grounder with the brand of Sangedakru on his face. 

And it wasn't a dream. 

It wasn't a dream at all. It had been a vision, all along. A warning. And she had ignored it. 

She tried to scream, but a gag was being forced between her teeth. All she could accomplish were a few hoarse yells, quickly silenced by a blow to the head from the largest Grounder. 

And then they were yanking the gag out of her mouth, tipping something down her throat that burned...

"What did you do with Marcus?" she rasped, fighting off the wave of exhaustion that fell over her. "What did you do with him?"

The Grounder laughed. "Hosh daun," he said quietly. "Sleep, Chancellor."

And Abby saw nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got a huge chunk more of it done so i'm probably a little over halfway finished. i'm aiming for six or seven chapters in total but we'll see.


	3. Kidnapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i've already finished eight chapters of this because i have nothing else to do with my life right now and also i have a major problem where i either update fics way too often or never so here have another chapter of my bullshit and also i wrote the bit about kane and clarke like a month ago so it was a few weeks before kane and clarke had the "we both care about abby" hug so don't take that bit too seriously.   
> also, meet my grounders: santiago (totally not stolen from raphael whaaaaat), eadric (honestly if you know what that one's from then kudos to you), and castela.

A knocking woke Kane from a deep sleep. 

"Mom," Clarke's voice complained. "You're late. Jackson's willing to give you another day, if you need it, but at least tell us first."

Kane glanced up, but surprisingly, Abby wasn't next to him. 

"Mom?" 

Glancing at his pajama pants to make sure they were decent enough to open the door, Kane hurried over to do just that. "Abby's not here," he said to a surprised Clarke. "I just woke up. I have no idea where she is."

"Why are you—you know what? I don't want to know." Clarke folded her arms. "She's not in the mess hall. Where else could she be?"

Kane frowned. "I don't know. Maybe she went for some air and fell asleep outside? I'm just surprised I didn't wake up."

"Wait a second. What's on your face?" Clarke pointed to a spot on his cheek just below his nose. "It's...purple."

Kane touched his face and pulled his hand back, finger coated in a thin purple liquid. "I have no idea," he frowned. "I haven't eaten or drank anything this color, and I don't know what else it could be."

"Huh." Clarke turned. "I'll check outside. Get dressed, will you? No one's going to take you seriously looking for my mom in pajamas."

"Good morning to you, too," Kane muttered, closing the door. On impulse, he lightly touched his tongue to his finger. 

A dizzying wave of exhaustion hit him, passing almost as quickly as it came. He registered the taste with alarm. Knew what he associated it with. 

Someone had knocked him out. This liquid was used to make sure he didn't wake up. 

What had Abby done?

…

Blinding light.

“This is the woman?” a voice asked. “She’s as small as a child.” 

Abby ached all over as a blindfold was violently ripped from her face, catching on her knotted hair. Her mouth was dry, stuffed with a makeshift gag, and as she slowly allowed her senses to return, that was removed as well. 

"Speak," someone said. 

It was the Grounder from her dream, with the tattoo of the sun. By his side stood another man, with the same tattoo, wiry but fierce. And on his other side, a woman. Swirling tattoos decorated her shoulders and arms, all way up her neck to creep over her ear and across her cheek. 

"You are Chancellor Abi kom Skaikru," the first man growled. 

She had to try a few times before any sound came out. "Not Chancellor," she rasped. 

The man raised his eyebrow. "You are not the heda of your people?"

"You were wrong, Castela," the wiry man muttered. 

"That was what the intelligence indicated." Castela strode forward. "Are you lying to me, Sky Person?"

"I was the Chancellor. I'm not anymore," Abby said dully. Her head pounded, but she forced herself to look Castela in the eye. 

"What do we do now?" The first Grounder whirled on his companions. 

"Don't look at me." Castela threw her hands up. 

"Look, Santiago," the wiry man pleaded. "We can still use her. She might be willing to cooperate. She was Chancellor once; she might still be of value to her people."

"She's their healer," Castela said smugly. "They need her."

"Wait." Santiago knelt by Abby and moved her hair out of her face. "I recognize her."

The wiry man looked alarmed. "A friend?"

"No." Santiago's face split into a wide grin. "No. You did very well, Eadric. This is the mother of Wanheda."

…

"She's not anywhere." Clarke's voice was low, strained. "She wouldn't have..."

"Run off?" Jackson couldn't stop pacing, passing Clarke's seat at the strategy table once more. "No. Abby wouldn't do that."

"Is everything okay between you two?" Clarke asked Kane cautiously, with the manner of someone who wanted absolutely no more information than necessary. 

"Everything was fine, last I checked," Kane said darkly. "Until she knocked me out and ran off."

"I just can't picture Abby doing something like that." Jackson shook his head. "We don't even have anything like that in Medical."

"Wait." Clarke stood up. "You're right. If my mom wanted to knock someone out, she uses something...I don't know what it is. But it's not purple. And it leaves no trace. Wouldn't it make more sense for her to use that?"

"What are you saying, Clarke?" Kane asked testily. 

"My mom didn't knock you out," Clarke said. "Which is what I've been trying to tell you the whole time."

"Then who did? And where is she?" Jackson paced another lap. "We still don't know shit!"

"Was she kidnapped?" Kane let the question drop heavily between them like a weight, saw it pull on Clarke and Jackson's faces as they all knew that he was right. 

He desperately wished he wasn't.

"Kidnapped by who?" Jackson looked between them. "Someone inside our camp, or Grounders?"

Kane stood. "I'm going to find Indra. Clarke, call a meeting with Roan. And Jackson..." He cursed as he realized that the person in charge of Arkadia was, in fact, him. "Tell Miller that this entire place is on lockdown, and we're not lifting it until Abby is found."

"Sir—"

"That's an order," Kane snapped. 

The kid held up his hands. "I want to find Abby just as much as you, Chancellor. I just want you to make sure you can trust Indra."

"I trust Roan," Clarke said. "He know what's at stake and that Abby can help him. We'll find her, Jackson. I promise."

Jackson nodded and headed out of the room, followed by Clarke. Kane sat for a moment longer, head resting on his hands, contemplating a world without Abby. 

He had to find her. It wasn't an option. 

"Kane."

Clarke was back in the doorway, looking expectant. 

"Yeah, I'm coming." Kane shoved back his chair. 

"Look." Clarke looked uncomfortable. "I know you love her."

"Clarke, you always look like I'm going to tell you any unnecessary details of our relationship," Kane pointed out. "Believe me, I'm not."

"It's not just that." Clarke took a deep breath. "I guess it just shows how much of a hypocrite I am that it's weird for me to think of my mother with anyone else than..."

"Your father." Kane exhaled. "Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?"

Clarke looked hard at Kane. "I know you're the Chancellor," she said. "But just remember, if you so much as shocklash her again, I am the Commander of Death for a reason."

Kane, despite himself, chuckled. "I don't think that's something we have to worry about."

"You're serious about her?" Clarke asked. 

"I know that I'm...not someone you'd expect your mother to be with," Kane said slowly. "What with me...being who I am."

"You're Kane," Clarke said. "You're not the person you were on the Ark. You're a fighter, but you're a fighter for peace instead of death." She sighed. "I'm not here to give you my approval about you and my mother. I just came to say that either way, we both care about her, and we're in this together."

Kane nodded. "Then let's go."


	4. Mother of Wanheda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop whoop have another chunk of my trash

They half-dragged, half-carried Abby through the forest while Abby tried to force questions through her loose gag. 

"Shut up, will you?" Castela hissed. The front chunk of her dark hair was tied back and her round face and confident stature reminded Abby of what she was being kidnapped from. 

"You must know of my daughter," Abby managed. "I understand that you call her Wanheda."

Castela sneered. "Wanheda, mountain-slayer. Yes, we all know the tale."

"What are you going to do with her?"

"What did you tell her?" Eadric whipped his head around to look at Castela. 

"Why would you think that, sky lady?" Castela's voice was flat. 

"Because I'm your bait. You're going to take me and use me to draw either Clarke or the Chancellor out." She huffed as her toe slammed against a tree root. "And it's not going to work."

"Oh yeah?" Santiago stopped in his tracks. "Far enough, I'd say."

"Santi. We're supposed to go to the lake bunker."

"Shut up, Castela." Santiago threw Abby to the ground, stepping on the chain binding her legs. "We're doing this here."

"Santi—"

"Eadric?" Santiago spat. 

Eadric glanced over at Castela, whose arms were folded. "It's okay," he said quietly. "Santi knows what he's doing."

Castela glowered. 

"Now." Santiago drew a long knife from his belt and held the tip of it to Abby's throat. "Let's begin, shall we?"

…

"You've got to be kidding."

Roan leaned against the wall, the poster boy of exasperation. "Abby went and got herself kidnapped?"

"That's what we think," Clarke said stubbornly. "I want to know if one of your people did it."

"And how d'you expect me to do that? I can't exactly pass around questionnaires." Roan pantomimed holding the paper in question. "Hello, citizen of Trishanakru, have you abducted any—"

"Okay, that's enough." Kane slammed the palm of his hand on the table. "Can you help us, or not?"

"I will search my people," Indra promised. "If Abby is in the hands of Trikru, she will not be for long."

"Thank you," Kane breathed. "Could we put out word to all of the ambassadors? Have them—"

"This isn't that simple, Kane." Roan's voice had an edge to it. 

"Then so help me, think of something else!" Kane raged. "I am not stopping until we get Abby back!"

The radio crackled. 

"Heda kom Skaikru."

Kane froze. 

"Heda kom Skaikru, please respond."

"Who is that?" Indra growled. 

Kane whipped out the radio. "Chancellor speaking. Who is this?"

"Ai laik Santiago," the voice said. "I have your healer."

"Sangedakru," Indra hissed. 

"Give me the radio," Roan commanded. When Kane hesitated, he grabbed it. "Ai laik Roan, King of Azgeda, and you will release Abby of the Sky People—"

"Roan, you have to press the button," Clarke muttered, grabbing the radio. "This is Wanheda. King Roan demands that you unhand my mother."

"Unfortunately, King Roan can't do anything at the moment," Santiago said breezily. "Since we have your mother, and he does not."

"Don't you dare hurt her," Clarke said fiercely, but Kane shook his head and she passed the radio back.

"What do you want?" he demanded. 

"Not a lot. Only the Chancellor of the Sky People, and...the girl, as well."

"No!" a voice choked in the background. "Don't—"

"Mom?" Clarke snatched the radio back, practically pressing it to her face. "Mom!"

"You will cooperate," Santiago said snidely. "Or I will press this knife farther into her throat than it already is. It broke the skin a little, I think."

"Where are you?" Kane said. "I'll come, but leave Clarke out of this."

"I'm coming with you," Clarke snapped. "Whether you like it or not."

"Clarke, Abby will never let it go if you're kidnapped." Kane put a hand on her shoulder. "But me..."

"She is in love with you," Clarke said fiercely. "Look, Kane, I have a lot of mixed feelings about your relationship, but that isn't something she could get over."

"Which is why she needs you here," Kane said gently. 

The radio crackled, and a broken shriek echoed through the static. 

"STOP!" Clarke yelled. "We're coming!"

"Move fast," Santiago taunted. "Border of Azgeda, to the east."

The signal went dead. 

"You are not—" Kane started. 

"We have to make a plan," Clarke said. "Now."

"I can signal Bellamy." Kane grabbed the radio. "Bellamy, come in."

"Kane."

"We're in trouble. I need you to watch camp while I'm gone."

Clarke frowned. "But I—"

Kane held up a hand. 

"Received," Bellamy said. 

Kane fiddled with the radio for a moment, turning the dial to channel nine. 

Bellamy got there first. "Kane?" 

"Come to the conference room, now," Kane said. "It's not good. Get Monty, Harper and Octavia."

"Got it."

"And be discreet," Kane hissed. "There may be eyes on all of us."

"What are you doing?" Clarke asked. 

"Getting your mother back."  
…

“Where are you going?”

“Jasper?” Monty frowned. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Check this out.” Jasper tossed a small ball up into the air, catching it gently. “It’s a water balloon.”

“A—what? Jasper, do you ever quit wasting water?”

“I’m serious, Monty.” Jasper raised his arm and chucked the balloon at an unsuspecting passerby. The balloon exploded, dousing the little girl in freezing water. She shrieked and marched over to them, glaring.

“What is wrong with you?” she snapped.

“Sorry, kid.” Jasper smiled. “Want to help me make some balloons? Monty, you can help too.”

“As delightful as that sounds, I’ve actually got somewhere to be,” Monty said flatly. “Abby Griffin’s been kidnapped by a couple of Grounders, and we’re going after her.”

“Take some balloons,” Jasper offered.

“Jasper.”

“I’m serious. You never know when they’ll come in handy,” Jasper said. “For the love of God, Monty, just take them.”

Monty rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I have room in my bag.”

“No, you’re lucky.” Jasper dropped a few dozen balloons into the bag. “Be careful. These things pop easily, but they pack a mean dose of water.”

“Good to know.” Monty tried not to roll his eyes as the little girl giggled. “Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem.” Jasper smiled serenely, filling up another balloon with water.


	5. Plans and Bullets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for updating all the damn time but i'd really like to get this whole thing published before wednesday. i just finished writing the final draft and it's gonna be 11 chapters total including the super short epilogue. as always, thanks for reading, and enjoy the bellarke

Abby could feel the blood pooling above her collarbone. It was warm and the cut stung. 

Santiago had handed the knife off to Eadric, who seemed more content to grip her arm than the back of her neck, or her hair. Castela, meanwhile, was scanning the trees, alert for any sign of danger. 

"What are you going to do with them?" Abby demanded. "Marcus and Clarke."

Castela glanced at her, but didn't respond. 

Eadric kicked her. "Mind your own business, healer."

"Don't hurt them," she begged. "Please."

"Shut up," Santiago growled. "Our position is compromised."

"That's what you get for setting up at Azgeda borders and not at the lake bunker," Castela snapped. 

"Cas—"

"And you're not helping, Eadric. Torturing the prisoner wasn't part of the plan." 

"We're not sticking to the plan anymore," Santiago said. "We have a new plan."

"Which is?"

"Once the Chancellor and Wanheda are in custody, we execute the healer." He indicated Abby, crumpled lifelessly on the ground. "She knows who we are now. It's too dangerous."

"YOU ANNOUNCED TO ALL OF SKAIKRU WHO YOU ARE," Castela pointed out. 

"I don't wish to hear any more from you." Santiago aimed a finger at Castela. "I am very close to banishing you to Polis and leaving you to fend for yourself among King Roan and his Azgeda army."

Castela clenched her jaw and kept quiet.

“If you’re going to execute me anyway, then tell me,” Abby demanded.

“No.” Santiago kicked her lightly, nudging her against a tree and training his sword on her. “I’d kill you now if you weren’t our leverage, healer.”

“She could be useful,” Eadric opined. “If we’re on the run from Roan—“

“Like she’d help us,” Santiago sneered. 

“Listen.” Abby held her hands up, trying not to hit her head against the tree. “If you leave Skaikru alone, I’ll do anything. I’ll help you. I’ll go with you.”

Castela bit her lip. “Santi, Eadric’s right.”

“We are not keeping her alive. She’s a hazard,” Santiago persisted.

“She’s only a small, unarmed woman. She’s not going to be able to hurt us,” Castela argued. “And if we’re executing the Chancellor and Wanheda anyway—“

“If you execute the Chancellor or my daughter,” Abby said flatly, “I would rather you kill me too.”

It was the most selfish thing she could remember saying. But backed into a corner, and a trap set for Marcus and Clarke, she couldn’t face being alive without them.

“Listen, healer,” Santiago said, managing to make the word sound like a curse. “If your precious Chancellor and Wanheda show up, then we’ll talk. But if they don’t, you get the stick and we find out how to get to them a different way.”

“This seems like an awfully flawed plan,” Eadric said doubtfully. “Santi, when you said you needed my help, I thought you might want to rebuild your mother’s old house, not kidnap the mother of Wanheda. This is madness.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I burned it,” Santiago said coldly.

Abby pushed a lock of hair out of her face, trying not to think.

And it came to her. 

She knew exactly how she could save Clarke and Marcus.

…

“We go on foot from here.”

Bellamy hesitated, tapping the wheel of the Rover.

“What is it?” Marcus looked as if he were about to spontaneously combust. 

“I think you and Clarke should wait in the Rover,” Bellamy said, internally wincing in preparation. As he expected, identical “NO!”s were (quite loudly) shouted from the passenger seat and the back.

“I’m not staying out of this, and you can’t make me,” Clarke said fiercely, clambering out of the Rover and crossing to the driver’s side door. She pulled it open and leaned forward, staring Bellamy directly in the eyes. “Are you with me, or not?”

“I’m always with you,” Bellamy said carefully, sliding out of the seat and landing in front of her. “Clarke…what if you…”

Clarke leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He had to bend down a little to hug her, but his arms tightened around her, unwilling to let her go.

“I’m with you,” he repeated.

She kissed him.

He wasn’t expecting it, but it only took a moment before he kissed her back, reveling in the unexpected joy of being kissed by Clarke, tangling his fingers in her soft blonde hair. For a moment, everything melted away—Sangedakru, the mission, Abby—and it was just him and Clarke.

She pulled away, ignoring Monty’s snicker and Miller’s low whistle.

“Let’s go find my mother,” she said.

…

“What the hell are you doing?”

Abby froze. 

“Put the rock down,” Eadric whispered. “What, did you really think you could take us on with a rock and get a—“

Abby lifted the rock.

Instead of hitting Eadric, she drove it towards her own skull.

“NO!”

Castela dove, grabbing Abby’s arm just as the rock made contact. It glanced off her temple and clattered harmlessly against the tree.

“What the hell is going on?” Santiago yelled. “Is that sky woman causing trouble again? Why don’t we just kill her already?”

A bullet whistled through the air and lodged itself in his skull. He crumpled to the ground, a look of shock on his face.

“No,” Abby whispered.

“Stay still,” Castela pleaded.

“Was that Santiago?” someone whispered.

“Shut up,” a voice said roughly. Bellamy Blake. “He wasn’t alone. Get into position.” 

Abby scanned the trees. If she wasn’t familiar with Skaikru, she wouldn’t have been able to see anyone, but—there. A flash of a boot. Monty?

“Santiago kom Sangedakru!”

Octavia Blake, sword at her side, strolled into the clearing. Abby was quickly dragged behind a tree by Castela, who was breathing heavily.

“Santiago is dead,” Eadric answered. Abby heard an arrow being notched, and risked a glance.

“What a shame,” Octavia said carelessly. “I hear you have Abby Griffin in your custody.”

“I hear you have Wanheda in yours.”

“Not today.” Octavia shifted, angling her sword. “Let’s talk, shall we? I don’t think your buddy Santiago’s having a very good time right now. And unless you want to end up that way yourself, you’re gonna hand over Abby to us, and we’re going to leave.”

Castela’s grip tightened on Abby, but Abby was silently cheering. It was over. Octavia had won—

“Eadric, duck!” Castela yelled. “They’re surrounding us!”

Eadric dropped to the ground as about six bullets flew through the air.


	6. Water Balloons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> try not to hate bellamy too much. he's just doing his best.

“Miss,” Monty growled under his breath.

“There’s someone behind that tree.” Harper lifted her gun, aiming it.

“Wait!” Monty grabbed her arm. “That could be Abby.”

“Why would Abby be hiding behind a tree?”

“She could be tied to it.”

“I don’t see a rope.”

“Fishing line. It doesn’t matter. Our job is to get Abby out safely.”

Harper lowered the gun. “Fine. Who am I shooting?”

“Someone yelled,” Monty reminded her. “We have to figure out who it was.”

…

“Bellamy, be rational,” Marcus ordered. 

“You can’t reveal your position. Clarke can’t reveal her position.” Bellamy shifted. “Get back into your position.”

“I can’t. There are two girls behind that tree. I didn’t get a good look at the second, but the first has dark hair and tattoos on her neck. They’re right within sight of my position.”

Bellamy raised his gun and crab-walked to the left, straining to get a look. “I can shoot the first one,” he breathed. “But it would give you away.”

“Do it.” 

“Kane—“

“When you get Abby out…”

Bellamy fired.

The shot rang, missing the first girl by a hair and hitting the second. A familiar scream filled the air as she collapsed to the forest floor, rolling from behind the tree.

In a heartbeat, Bellamy realized that the second girl wasn’t, in fact, a girl, but Abby. He had just shot Abby.

He could hear a small intake of breath behind him.

“Don’t move,” he hissed.

“You shot her,” Marcus said numbly. 

"Kane—"

Bellamy could see Octavia quietly advancing on Eadric.

“Kane, don’t.”

…

“Hand over the woman,” Octavia demanded, brandishing her sword and positioning herself in front of where the bullet had flown. “Or next time, I won’t be so polite.”

Eadric circled her, edging in front of where Octavia knew Clarke was hiding. “I don’t think so, Skairipa.”

“I—“

Octavia barely jumped out of the way as Marcus shot past her, heading directly towards the tree.

“KANE!” she yelled. 

This was going downhill, fast.

…

It was pandemonium.

Clarke watched in horror as her mother fell, and then Marcus as Eadric lashed out, knocking him to the ground with his dagger. Bellamy followed seconds later, glancing around frantically and trying to aim at Eadric.

Clarke aimed and fired once, knocking Eadric off of Marcus. But the Grounder got back up, chasing after him, notching an arrow in his bow as Octavia tried to cut him off.

…

“What the hell do we do?” Harper hissed. “I can’t get a clear shot from here.”

Monty thought desperately.

“Jasper’s water balloons,” he whispered.

“Huh?”

“Cover me,” Monty instructed, reaching into his bag and rising to a half-crouch, scuttling to the side of the clearing. Harper stood up and pressed against the tree, keeping an eye on him.

As one by one, he began to hurl the water balloons into the clearing.

…

“What the hell?”

A giant purple projectile hit Octavia directly in the face, knocking her over and exploding all over her. Another zoomed by and slammed into Eadric’s back, causing him to stumble backwards, releasing Marcus.

Water balloons. Who the fuck was throwing water balloons?

Then she connected the dots. Jasper’s damn water balloons. Somehow Monty had brought them and was now throwing them, hoping to create enough chaos that they could get Abby out of there, if she was even still alive.

Another water balloon hit the tree where Abby had been, leaving the bits of rubber all over the bark.

“GO!” Octavia yelled in Clarke’s general direction, hoping the girl would get the hint.

…

Clarke took off, dodging low-hanging branches and wayward water balloons, sprinting straight towards the tree she knew her mother was behind. She almost crashed straight into Miller, who was soaked with about three water balloons, trying to shake water out of the barrel of his gun.

“Clarke—“ he hissed.

“That’s my mother,” Clarke said fiercely. 

“Don’t.” Miller grabbed her arm. “Abby would never forgive you.”

“That’s a damn shame.” Clarke tore her arm away and hurtled over a log, running flat-out towards her mother.

She wouldn’t lose her.

Not now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i definitely won't have it all up before wednesday because that's…like…tomorrow.
> 
> WHO'S HYPED FOR THE FINALE GUYS??? (and who's crying internally 24/7??? that's right it's me #pray4bellarke)


	7. This Blood of Hers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much considered adding a "major character death" warning to the story but…I didn't, because no one actually dies. Well, not Abby, anyway, or any of your faves. So don't worry. They just think she's dead. And so will you, for like 0.5 seconds until I put out the next chapter.

Abby was only half-conscious, and fairly sure she was hallucinating. Because she would never in her right mind be seeing water balloons zipping through the air and slamming into people and trees around the clearing.

Castela swore as a water balloon slammed into their tree. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

Abby grumbled something uncomplimentary under her breath.

“Oh, for the love of—“ Castela bent down and slung Abby’s arm across her shoulders. “It’s not bad,” she said, inspecting the wound. “Nothing we can’t take care of.”

“Why would you want to?” Abby whispered. “I’m going to die. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“That’s what Santiago wanted,” Castela corrected, hauling her into the forest. “If you’ll recall, I voted for you to live.”

“Why?”

Castela shrugged. “You remind me of my mother,” she said. “She was a good person.”

Abby was strongly reminded then of how much Castela resembled like the night to Clarke’s day.

“You look like my daughter,” Abby wheezed. “She would do something stupid and reckless like this.”

Castela frowned. “Let’s hope she doesn’t do something else stupid—like coming after you.”

…

She was gone.

Gone, and so was the Grounder woman who was with her.

Bellamy let out a roar of frustration.

“Where is she?” Octavia, having finally dispatched Eadric, joined him, standing on tiptoe on a raised root. “Is she not here?”

“Bellamy?”

“Clarke. Kane needs help—Monty has the med kit. He was torn up pretty badly by that dagger.”

While Monty and Clarke ran over to check on Marcus, Harper joined the Blakes, surveying the blood on the ground.

“That’s…a lot of blood,” she said quietly. 

Bellamy closed his eyes. “Harper…”

“No one loses that much blood and survives,” Octavia said bluntly. 

“Are we sure it’s all Abby’s?” Bellamy asked desperately. “Maybe the Grounder got hit too—“

“She couldn’t have gotten away with Abby’s body that quickly. And you only fired one bullet. It hit Abby. And Abby died.” Octavia slammed her hand against the tree. “Anyone volunteer to tell stepdad over there? Because there’s no way I’m going to.”

“Octavia…”

“Oh, and Clarke, too. I’m sure as hell not telling Clarke her mom is dead.”

“What’s going on?” Monty jogged up to them, glancing over his shoulder. “Kane’s gonna be okay, but he keeps asking about Abby.”

The group became deadly silent. Only Harper would look Monty in the eye.

“Harper?”

“Monty, look at the ground,” she said gently. “No one can lose that much blood and live.”

“That doesn’t prove anything—“

Octavia bent down and lifted something off the ground. It was a chunk of brown hair, sticky and matted with blood.

“Guys?” 

Clarke’s worried voice broke into their gathering. She pushed through Bellamy and Harper, looking around at all of their somber faces.

“What is it?” she demanded.

Silently, Octavia passed her the hair. Clarke stared at it, then took it in—the blood, running in rivulets down the hill into the clearing. 

“Mom,” she whispered.

“Clarke…”

“You did this,” she said in a strangled voice. She whirled on Bellamy. “You shot her.”

Bellamy’s mouth opened, closed. “Clarke.”

“You killed her.” Clarke shoved him aside. “You killed my mother!”

“Clarke—“ Harper started.

“Don’t defend him! He killed her!” Clarke shrieked, advancing on Bellamy. He backed up, stumbling over the root. “You killed her!”

In the end, it was Monty who held her back, Monty who yelled for Bellamy to start the Rover, Monty who held Clarke, weeping, the whole ride home. Miller rode in the passenger seat, and Octavia and Harper sat silently beside Kane.

No one spoke.

No one knew what to say.

There was nothing to say.


	8. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. DO NOT LET MY MELODRAMATIC CHAPTER-NAMING FOOL YOU.

“They’ll come after me,” Abby warned Castela. “Just in case you had any illusions about my daughter and the Chancellor. As much as I wish they would…they won’t leave us alone.”

“Oh, yes they will,” Castela said brightly. “They think you’re dead.”

“What?” Abby stopped in her tracks. “How?”

“The water from the projectiles being thrown mixed with the blood from your wounds,” Castela said. “It gives the appearance of an excessive amount of blood. They will be too struck by grief to investigate further.”

“No!” Abby struggled. “They can’t think I’m dead. Can you—“

“Even if I still had the radio, I wouldn’t. The radio is with Santiago’s body, and if I told them you were alive, they would come after you and kill me.” 

“You could just let me go.”

“I won’t.” 

“Why?” Looking Castela in the eyes, Abby spoke softly. “You have a mother. She would have done anything to get back to her child. You know this. Yet you won’t let me go back to Clarke.”

“Your daughter is the Commander of Death.”

“And you’re a kidnapper, and possibly a killer.”

“I’ve never killed anyone,” Castela said staunchly. “My mother taught me better than that.” Her jaw hardened. “And right now, I’m fighting for Sankru. Santiago believed that Skaikru and Wanheda were a plague on our people, and I believed them. But I see that you love her, and if there is one thing I respect, it is a mother’s love for her daughter.”

Abby exhaled. “So you won’t hurt them?”

Castela dipped her head. “I swear to you, I will never again attempt to hurt Wanheda or the Chancellor of Skaikru unless they personally attack me.”

Abby supposed that would have to be enough.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Her voice was fading, and her vision was blurring.

“The lake bunker,” Castela said. “We’re going to do what Santi and Eadric and I planned, and hide there for the next few years.”

…

Shouting.

The gates opened and Bellamy drove straight inside, parking the Rover and climbing out as quickly as possible, pushing people aside as they crowded around the Rover.

“Now can you tell us about the super-important mission?” someone complained as Miller clambered out of the Rover. A little girl. Miller remembered her from his station; her name was Reese. “Where did you go?”

“Where’s Dr. Griffin?” someone shouted.

“Did you…?”

The last voice was more familiar. Miller spun to see Jackson, looking heartbreakingly hopeful at his shoulder.

Miller opened his mouth, and then closed it. For once, he had no idea what to say.

“I…uh…”

“They took her.” Jackson sounded slightly strangled. “When are you going back for her?” He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I’m coming with you. And you can’t talk me out of it.”

“Eric—“

“She’s like my mother, Nate.”

This was becoming worse by the second.

“I’m so sorry.” Miller squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to face Jackson. “Abby…”

The crowd was dispersing, following Clarke, who was trailing Kane to med bay. Meanwhile, Monty and Harper whispered quietly in a corner.

“Abby…didn’t make it.” The phrase sounded stupid as soon as it left his mouth. “She’s dead.”

The silence that followed was even worse than seeing. He opened his eyes to find Jackson’s face a mask of shock and horror.

Maybe the silence would have been better, actually. He would rather have gouged his own eyes out than see Jackson look like that.

“That’s not possible,” Jackson said finally.

“I’m so sorry,” Miller repeated.

“I’ve got to get back to medical,” Jackson said stiffly. “Kane—“

“Clarke can look after Kane. I think she can bandage up a wound by herself.”

“Oh my God, Clarke lost her mother.” Jackson took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “Kane…oh my God.”

“Eric.”

“I’m fine. I have to be.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have to be fine all the time,” Miller said quietly. “You help so many people, but you’re allowed to feel things. Abby Griffin was an amazing person, and she was like a mom to you.”

Silent tears spilled down Jackson’s face. Miller resisted the urge to reach up and wipe them away, but instead pulled the other boy to him. He heard a faint sob and closed his eyes, wishing beyond words that Abby was here, if only so Jackson would never have to feel this again.

…

“Clarke.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Clarke said shortly. 

“Clarke, she was your mother. She loved you so much.”

Clarke clenched her jaw. “She loved you too.”

Her voice rose an octave. She hated when that happened. 

She briefly considered the fact that she was an orphan now; dismissed it. Plenty of people she knew were orphans. Bellamy, Octavia, Jackson, Murphy, Raven…almost everyone she could think of, except Miller.

But somehow, they had all found a home, a family, with other people. And somehow, without even realizing it, Clarke had come to regard Marcus as a father figure of sorts.

Marcus winced as Clarke applied antiseptic to the cut. “That dagger was sharp,” she said stiffly. “My mom deals—dealt with infections better than I can, so let’s not let that happen, since she’s not around to fix it.”

Referring to her mother in the past tense was almost more than she could handle. She wiped away a stray tear, trying to focus on the task at hand, not letting the stinging pain in her eyes blur her vision.

“Clarke,” Marcus said gently.

She sniffled. “I can’t,” she said brokenly. “I can’t think about her.”

He pulled her into a hug, and only then could she really feel the weight of his grief match her own.

They had both loved her. They had both lost her.

And that was the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again. not actually the end. do not fear, more trash is near. 
> 
> YO CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT THE SEASON FOUR FINALE THOUGH. I'M CRYING A LOT. WHAT E VE N. I'M SHOOK. I READ ALL THE SPOILERS AND KNEW WHAT WAS COMING AND I'M STILL SHOOK.


	9. Too Far Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out i mislabeled my chapters so there's actually gonna be twelve, haha.

Miller glanced at the clock. 3:06 AM. 

He hadn't imagined it. There was a slight rapping at his door. 

Pulling on a sweatshirt, he rolled out of bed and made his way over to the door. To his surprise, a boy with dark hair stood on the other side, in a mess of tears.

"I'm sorry," Jackson muttered. 

Miller pulled him into a hug, feeling Jackson's head drop onto his shoulder. The tears soaked through his sweatshirt and onto his shoulder but he didn't care. Didn't care about anything except that the next time he saw Bellamy Blake, he would personally drop-kick him into next week. 

"I miss her," Jackson whispered. 

"I know."

…

"Clarke?"

Clarke stared at the opposite wall. 

"Clarke, listen—"

"Don't come in here."

"What?" 

Clarke addressed the wall in a freezing tone, not wanting to see his face. "If you value your life, you will walk out of this room and never talk to me again."

"Clarke." Bellamy strode forward. "I value you. I always have. I—"

"Get out."

"Clarke."

"It's over, Bellamy."

It stopped him in his tracks. She meant their friendship as well as their relationship, and he knew it. 

And that was even worse. 

"Clarke, I love you," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry. Please don't do this."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you shot my mother!"

She meant the words to come out calmly but the tears started again and she whirled to face Bellamy, shouting the last three words, words meant to hurt him, to make him feel what she was feeling.

"Now get out of my face before I destroy you," she said, her voice deadly quiet. Too quiet. 

Bellamy turned and walked out. 

…

It rained. 

It was better, in a way. Marcus didn't think he could have taken it if it was sunny and warm out. He needed the cold rain. 

In the rain, no one could see the tears slide down his face as he walked carefully through the forest. It was supposed to be aimless. He wanted to get lost. Part of him was hoping to find a cliff to melodramatically stare over.

He wouldn’t jump. He couldn’t bring himself to. Not when he knew he was still needed. Not when he knew what Abby would say. No, he would just consider his options at the edge of mortality.

Instead of a cliff face, he stumbled upon a familiar tree.

“My old friend.”

He sank to the ground, ignoring the creep of the mud through the thin fabric of his jeans, staring at the three-foot-tall tree as it took in the rain pouring down.

He remembered Abby’s face the first time he brought her to the tree. The surprise, and then the recognition, and then the adorable way her face had scrunched as she looked up at him.

It was before he had even let himself believe that she might feel the same way about him that he felt about her. But he read her face, read the way she looked at him, as if he were the most amazingly fascinating thing she had ever seen.

As it turned out, she did feel the same way.

Too late.

Too far gone.


	10. The Space Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so after the hiatus i totally DIDN'T jump right into a bellarke fic that takes place during the six-year time jump and i'm totally NOT almost finished and it's totally NOT making me want to cry right now because y'all know my need to write all angst all the time won't let me end it with bellamy and clarke on the ground and happy so yeah 
> 
> but anyway enjoy everyone being sad all the time

ONE YEAR AFTER THE KIDNAPPING

Castela rolled her shoulder as she tossed wood into the tiny hearth. They always waited until night to build a fire so that the smoke rising from the ground wouldn't be seen. "I hate fishing."

"We need the fish," Abby reminded her. "Necessary nutrients. It keeps your hair looking good, too."

Castela swept her hair dramatically over her shoulder. "How did you guys survive in space, without everything on Earth? How did you get water? Or the nutrients you needed?"

"We had a hydrogenerator. And we were able to grow almost everything we needed, but we had supplements for what we couldn't grow," Abby answered, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Which direction are we going next?"

They'd developed a system, the two of them. They picked a different direction every day to hunt. Abby would pick the plants she knew to be edible and the ones Castela pointed out to her, and Castela would hunt. While Abby still missed Marcus and Clarke, she knew Castela would not let her leave and so she did not try. 

Besides, sharing the bunker with Castela was almost...safe. It was more peace than she'd had since Jake died. She knew and respected Castela's reasons for keeping her prisoner, and she also knew that Castela couldn't keep her locked up forever. Sooner or later, Abby would go free. 

But less and less did she want to return to the daily strife of Arkadia. They had Jackson. They had Clarke. They were alive, Castela promised her. And once in a while, they left a few fish or a bundle of strawberries at one of the guard posts. 

"North," Castela said sleepily, curling up in front of the fire. "The birds are flying in for the summer. I might be able to shoot a few, if we're lucky." She reached over to grab Abby's arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

She said that every night.

Abby knew she meant it. 

But that didn't change anything.

…

TWO YEARS AFTER THE KIDNAPPING

"I was in TonDC yesterday."

Jackson frowned as Clarke leaned against the doorframe of medical, hands in her back pockets. "What were you doing there?"

"Someone needed medical attention last week due to a stab wound. Apparently, there was a girl with dark hair and a woman with brown hair who were able to help her." Clarke emphasized the last part, tugging lightly at her pale braid. 

"And?" Jackson said dully, wiping down the table. 

"Does that not sound familiar?"

"Abby's dead, Clarke." It had been long enough that he could say those two words without breaking down, but it still bit into him like a dull blade. 

"We never saw a body." Clarke folded her arms. 

"You saw the blood. You watched your mother do this for years, Clarke. You know as well as I do—"

"God, Jackson, let me have a little bit of hope, will you?" Clarke snapped. 

“Clarke…”

He crossed the room to face her.

“Why wouldn’t she come back?” Clarke whispered, feeling like a five-year-old. It reminded her of when she was nine and she scraped her knee running down the hall of Go-Sci. Her mom had bandaged her and kissed her head, but while she was dealing with other patients, Jackson had sat next to her and told her stories. They had stayed there for a few hours, just laughing together. Occasionally, Jackson would have to dash around for a while to help with a patient, but when he had some time, he let Clarke piggyback as he headed to the cabinet to get some medication.

“She would if she could,” Jackson told her gently.

She knew that, unless it came to Miller, Jackson was never a hugging person, but she didn’t need a hug. She just needed to stand next to Jackson, the boy who had been an older brother to her for as long as she could remember.

And so she did.

…

THREE YEARS AFTER THE KIDNAPPING

“What if we set up a permanent residence somewhere closer to Polis?”

It was the third time in a year Abby had made that suggestion.

Someone always needed medical attention, and she and Castela had made it a habit of running visits to Grounder villages once a day. The families usually paid in what food they could spare, which Abby and Castela always accepted gratefully. It kept them alive, and it kept Abby doing what she was good at. Saving lives.

They never gave names. They always wore coverings on their heads and faces. They never spoke. At one point, Abby’s hair had fallen out of her scarf, and now the Grounders referred to her as “riski melon fisa” (dark-haired healer.) 

“We can’t risk people finding out who we are.”

“You keep saying that, but no one ever has.”

“Really? Remember that time last year when Wanheda started spreading rumors that her mother might be alive?” Castela shot back. 

“Nothing ever panned out,” Abby said. “They know that if our identities are revealed, we won’t come back. They won’t turn us in to Skaikru.”

“Wanheda—“

“Stop calling her that,” Abby snapped. “Her name is Clarke. She’s my daughter.”

“Not anymore,” Castela said darkly.

Abby often asked herself why she hadn’t made her escape. She’d had a few opportunities over the years, and passed them all up.

A part of her couldn’t bear to leave Castela. The girl had grown on her. Another part of her loved the work she was doing. A part of her was terrified to attempt journeying into the woods on her own. But a part of her also clamored for Arkadia; for Marcus and Clarke.

“We’ve never gone to help Skaikru. They’re bound to be suspicious.”

“They’d recognize you instantly,” Castela pointed out.

“Not if I was careful.”

“Abby, you are the most distinctive-looking person I’ve ever met. You’re lucky that the Grounders have only seen your hair. They think you’re a teenage girl because of your height, but if they ever found out that you’re—“

“Stop.” Abby sighed. “I know. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“You are Sankru, Abby.” Castela squeezed her arm. “You can’t go back. You’re not the same as you were before.”

And although she still sat outside and stared at the stars, trying to futilely spot what was left of the Ark at night, she couldn’t bring herself to disagree.

The space between them had grown too large.

…

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE KIDNAPPING

 

“Clarke?”

She glanced up and offered him a tentative smile. “Can I help you?”

As Clarke had slowly emerged from the grief of losing her mother, she had begun to let Bellamy Blake back into her life. Slowly but surely, the two rebuilt their friendship from scratch, although it was never quite the same.

Of course he still loved her. Of course she still loved him.

They weren’t there yet.

He closed the door behind him. “I’ve got news.”

“What?” She dropped the rag onto the table. “Did patrol not make it back? Is it Octavia? Is—“

“Everyone’s fine. Clarke, two years ago—remember when you heard of the healer with the brown hair?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Clarke said quietly. “They found out who she was? What kru is she from?”

“Sangedakru.”

Clarke bit her lip. “I really thought…”

But Bellamy was shaking his head. “Sangedakru. Clarke, who else have we heard of from Sangedakru?”

She stared at him blankly.

“Santiago kom Sangedakru,” he recited. “And his two cronies. One of them took your mother’s body and hightailed it from the clearing.”

“So the dark-haired girl is the one who has my mom’s body?” Clarke felt a surge of anger rush through her. “Where is she going next? I’m going to catch her and—“

“No, Clarke. She isn’t the one who has your mother’s body.” Bellamy gave her a quick smile. “She is your mother.”

“What?” 

“We found her, Clarke.”

Clarke gripped the table. “Where is she?”

The smile disappeared. “That’s the bad part.”

“What?” Clarke reached out for Bellamy’s hand, forgetting for a moment the lost years between them. “Where is she, Bellamy?”

“She disappeared. She hasn’t been seen in days. I think…I think the Grounder girl is hiding her again.”

Clarke closed her eyes. “Or she’s dead.”

Bellamy’s silence echoed her own heart.

Her eyes snapped open. “Have you told Kane?”

“I can’t. He wouldn’t…he couldn’t live with that. He’s the Chancellor, Clarke. He doesn’t need to be thinking about his dead girlfriend.”

“Not dead anymore,” Clarke breathed.

“Listen, Clarke, you can’t tell anyone. If the news spreads, that ruins any chances of us finding her,” Bellamy warned. “They have to think we didn’t think anything of this, or we’ll never see her again.”

The door swung open. Jackson and Miller stumbled inside, oblivious to Clarke and Bellamy’s presence, laughing so hard that neither of them could breathe.

“Hey guys,” Miller panted as soon as he was able. “Why so serious?”

“Sorry.” Jackson tried to bite back a giggle. “Did we interrupt something?”

Bellamy smirked. “Did we?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but sighed as she glanced at Jackson. “No. There’s nothing.”

“Okay.” He raised an eyebrow at her direct statement, but apparently forgot about her strange tone as Miller pulled him in for a quick kiss.

Clarke sighed. She knew how happy her mother would be that Jackson was doing okay, was happy, even. She would want to know that Clarke was okay. That Marcus was okay.

So why hadn’t she come back?


	11. A Return Home

FIVE YEARS AFTER THE KIDNAPPING

“Castela?”

Abby frowned, venturing a few more feet out of the bunker. If she went too far, Castela usually dragged her inside, hissing that she needed to hide. 

But Castela wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“Castela!”

“That’s her!” a whispered voice called. “It's Abby!”

“Where is Castela?” Abby demanded, head swiveling back and forth.

“Abby.”

She stopped.

She knew that voice.

“Abby, look at me.”

There was a man in front of her. He had rumpled brown hair and a hooked nose. Without thinking, she drew her sword and pointed the tip of it directly at his chest.

Marcus threw his hands up. “Abby. Please…”

She didn’t lower it.

“What have you done with Castela?” she demanded.

“Your kidnapper? She’s dead, Abby. We killed her.”

Abby stared at him disbelievingly.

“Abby?”

A hesitant figure approached. One she recognized. One she knew.

“Jackson.”

Marcus looked slightly relieved as Jackson darted forward and threw his arms around Abby. She didn’t return the hug at first, but slowly, as if the gesture were foreign to her, she sheathed her sword and wrapped her arms around the boy.

“I missed you so much,” he breathed. “I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead. Clarke was a mess, blaming Bellamy for your death—how did you survive? He shot you!”

“Abby.”

She had to tilt her head up to meet the eyes of the gravelly voice.

“I’m so sorry,” Bellamy said. “I—“

“You were trying to protect your people,” Abby said calmly.

Marcus surveyed her for a minute. “Abby, can we have a minute? Alone?” he added, meeting the eyes of each person in the circle. They all nodded, backing away slowly, guns trained on the perimeter.

“Abby,” he said gently.

“Yes?”

“I thought I lost you.”

She raised her eyes to meet his. “You did.”

“You’re not the same as you were.”

“You keep saying very obvious things.” 

He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she jerked away.

“Who are you? You lack the spark in your eyes that is so familiar to me. You lack the sharp tongue that always was so quick to reassure me you were still you. You won’t look me in the eyes. You won’t touch me.” He swallowed. “Why didn’t you come home? What happened to you?”

Abby closed her eyes briefly. She was almost tempted to fling herself into his arms. Let herself cry. Go back to Arkadia, fall into her old life, braid Clarke’s hair and ask her how she’s been.

But that five-year gap wasn’t something that could be ignored so easily. And she was a different person.

“I had a life,” she said. “Castela was my friend.” She raised her hand—an instinctive gesture, almost wanting to cup his face in her hands, to lean her forehead against his. “I don’t know where your Abby is. But I know she isn’t here.”

“Do you still love me?”

The question seemed to slip out before he could stop it. He looked like he regretted it for every second that passed while Abby considered her answer.

“I don’t even know you,” she replied, finally.

…

She came back to camp with them.

She took one of the extra rooms. She was so used to sharing with Castela, and now she had a bed that was somehow more uncomfortable than the floor.

She left the first day. She walked for miles before circling back at dusk and returning to the camp just as everyone was going to bed.

“Mom?”

Abby whirled to find Clarke walking next to her. Her hair was tied back the same way as it always had been, two braids wrapped around her head and knotted in the back. Her face was pale and smudged with dirt, her expression so tragic that Abby was briefly shocked back into her role as Clarke’s mother.

“Honey.” She reached out tentatively to touch Clarke’s face, but dropped her hand just as quickly.

“Mom, come back to us,” Clarke pleaded. “We’re here for you. We missed you so much. I thought you were gone.”

“I…”

“Please.”

“Clarke.”

Clarke glanced up as Marcus headed towards them, looking exhausted. 

“You should get some sleep,” he told her. “You and Bellamy are leading a patrol tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Clarke said dully. “That’s fine. Goodnight, Mom. Night, Kane.”

She trudged up the hill inside, looking half-despondent.

It was a moment before Marcus spoke.

“I’ve instructed the guards at the gate to let you in and out without questions,” he said softly. “You won’t have to argue with them again.”

“Thank you,” Abby said. She meant it, but she didn’t pour a hearty amount of sincerity into her words. It was the way she’d always spoken with Castela—cool, polite, friendly. Never warm. Never comforting.

“You were always a force of nature,” he remarked. “It was one of the things I missed most about you.”

“I missed you too,” Abby said.

Surprise was written plainly across his face, and a little bit of hurt.

“You did?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” he asked again.

She lifted her chin. “It wasn’t the right place to be. And then…it stopped being the right time.”

“It’s the right time now.”

She gave him a sad smile. “But I’m not the right person.”

“You always will be to me.” He looked desperate. “I never stopped loving you, Abby.”

Steeling herself for the physical contact, she raised onto tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “I know,” she whispered.

…

“My mom’s out here somewhere.”

“Oh yeah?” Bellamy kept his vision trained through the lens of his gun. 

“Try not to shoot her, would you?”

“I can’t tell whether I’m supposed to laugh at that or not.”

Clarke snorted. “It’s all fun and games until a water balloon outsmarts us.”

“Why didn’t we notice that the water mixed with the blood? It was so obvious.” Bellamy lifted his gaze from the lens to look at Clarke. “I mean, I’m not a doctor, but you have no excuse.”

“My vision was…not up to par at that moment,” Clarke pointed out. “Blinded by the fact that my mother was presently…less alive than I usually like her to be.”

“At least she is alive.”

“Only took five years,” Clarke said bitterly, staring through the lens of her gun. “God, Bell, didn’t she miss me?”

“Clarke…”

“Hey.”

Clarke glanced up. Raven was loitering next to them, two bottles of water in her hands. “Thought you guys might be dehydrated,” she said, tossing them underhand. “Are we discussing our current mystery Grounder diva?”

“That’s my mother you’re calling a mystery Grounder diva.”

“And if you’re wondering if she missed you,” Raven continued, rolling right over Clarke’s comment, “she did.”

“How can you tell?” Clarke said crabbily. “She looks right through me. She looks right through everyone.”

“Remember when I told you that I’ve never seen anyone love someone the way she loves you?” Raven reminded her. “She looks at you when she thinks no one’s looking. She’ll touch you, touch your face like she used to, and she won’t with anyone else. You’re the only person she’ll willingly sit next to. She remembers her old life when she sees you, Clarke, because you’ve always been there. You’ve always been a part of her.”

Clarke sighed. “It’s just…”

“She’ll come around,” Raven said. “She’s been living in a bunker for five years. You gotta give her some time. Your mother is the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Clarke gave her a half-smile. “Keep an eye on her, would you?”

“I always do.” Raven flashed them a quick grin, then turned and headed back up the hill towards the main station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we're almost a week into the hiatus and it's time to drown myself in something that isn't the 100. is riverdale any good? or i might try that anne of green gables show. does anyone have book recommendations? should i try reading the 100 books? oh oh oh speaking of books did anyone read lord of shadows because that was an emotional trainwreck.


	12. Epilogue: Your Fight is Not Over

“Abby?”

Marcus walked into the room as she desperately tried to stem the flow of tears that had been pouring down her cheeks for the past ten minutes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, alarmed. 

“I missed half of Clarke’s life,” Abby wept. “I caused her to break up with Bellamy. I left you alone for five years, and now you think I don’t love you anymore because I don’t know how to say it, because I can’t come near you anymore.”

Marcus stood silently as Abby tried to compose herself, and failed.

“I’m still me,” she sobbed. “I’m still here. And if you…if you give me time…I can try to find myself again.”

He stood in silence for another minute.

“Can I sit next to you?” he asked quietly.

“Please.”

He slowly encircled an arm around her, waiting for her to pull away. Instead, she carefully laid her head on his shoulder, her tears spilling down and soaking into his shirt.

He didn’t mind.

“Do you still love me?” she whispered.

“I always will.”

“I’ve missed so much. I was scared to come back,” she admitted. “Castela…she reminded me so much of Clarke. I thought I would be okay. I thought I could be happy.”

“Maybe you were.” He pulled her closer. “There isn’t only one type of happiness.”

“You and Clarke are my family.” She looked around. “This is my home, and Skaikru is my clan.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

She took a deep breath.

“I don’t know,” she said. “There are days I’m going to wake up and forget that I’m not still in that bunker. There are days where I’m going to want to spear anyone who comes near me, and there are days I’m going to be my old self. I just hope I can keep fighting through it.”

“Yu gonplei nou ste odon,” Marcus recited, meeting her eyes. 

Your fight is not over.

She gave him a half-smile.

“You’re damn right it’s not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo okay hope you enjoyed my trash  
> if y'all want to follow me on tumblr it's chancellorskabby  
> thanks for reading


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